Fire and Ash is James Cameron at his most unapologetic. Unrestrained and full throttle, the saga about Sully peaks in this climactic third film. It is a film that doubles down on everything set up beforehand, making it clear: a Sully doesn't quit.

The Way of Water was about grief, family, and endurance; Fire and Ash is about violence, and when it is and isn't necessary. It is the most openly angry Avatar movie yet, and the first that truly dives into the loss of faith—not just spiritual belief, but faith in moral certainty itself. Neytiri, played by Zoe Saldaña, struggles to keep her faith after her son's death. As her prayers go unanswered and she continues to lose everything she holds dear, we see her leaning toward hatred for all humans. She even begins to look at her own children differently as a result. The loss drives her to violence as a first response, and eventually to the brink of contemplating the killing of a child.

Kiri, played by Sigourney Weaver, stands in stark contrast to Neytiri's arc. When Kiri's prayers go unanswered, she doesn't doubt; instead, she pushes closer to the goddess. Her faith is reinforced by each crisis they face rather than weakened by it.

That said, not all character arcs are given the same care, and some fall flat or fail to progress meaningfully. The clearest example is Jake, played by Sam Worthington, whose arc flounders as he continues to try to be a dad amid war. That is an inherently difficult position, but the film gestures at the consequences of his emotional absence without fully confronting them. When your child is contemplating suicide as a result of your neglect, the relationship requires more than a simple "I'm proud of you" followed by another act of violence to feel meaningfully repaired.

Even Quaritch, played by Stephen Lang, functions as a distorted mirror of Jake's arc from the first film. Where Jake once defected from humanity out of love and conscience, Quaritch manipulates connection to further human expansion. He even convinces his partner to fight for the humans, creating an evil-twin scenario. While the parallel is clear and practical, the film stops short of fully exploring its implications, opting instead to keep Quaritch firmly in antagonist territory with only a faint hint otherwise at the end.

One of the most intriguing elements introduced in the third act is the human colony. We know that Earth can no longer sustain humanity, which is why Pandora is being colonized, but this is the first time we see non-military personnel living there. They applaud the capture of Jake, which immediately raises uncomfortable questions. What propaganda have they been fed? How do civilians justify the violence committed in their name? A colony of humans seeking to start again and survive must have its own perspective on the Na'vi resistance, which continues to halt expansion and kill their soldiers. This adds an entirely new layer to the world of Avatar and reframes the conflict in ways the film only begins to explore.

In all, Avatar: Fire and Ash is a powerful, if imperfect, culmination of the Sully saga. Sons are lost and gained, faith is tested and fractured, and violence leaves marks that cannot simply be erased by victory. By mirroring elements of the first film, Cameron signals a symbolic passing of the torch to the next generation of characters.

‍